Without
by poppyfoxcroft
Summary: Bobby's life now. It's been a while since Bobby's been back. Read the previous four stories before this one. Enjoy.


Without, ch 1 – 09-12-097

"See you in the morning."

"Do you want to get a drink?"

He stopped, shook his head without looking back and continued toward the elevators. Periodically, Alex would ask the question, knowing that he would decline. It had been more than a year since Gleason died and the cold, wet blanket of sadness still hung on Bobby's mind, soul, and body. After the funeral, he was given as much time off as he wanted and he disappeared for six weeks. Everything about him had changed upon his return – he had aged, shadows hanging below his eyes and he seemed heavier; he was subdued, no longer losing his temper; his dress was casual, no more suits; he went days without shaving, often growing a beard; even his movements were slower. The skills he used were the same, however. If anything, Bobby seemed more tenacious, seeming to lose himself in the details of a case, only becoming quiet at the end of the day.

As was his Friday routine, Bobby stopped by the cemetery and visited his mother's, brother's, and wife's plots – staying the longest at Gleason's. In his mind, he spoke to each of them – chatting with his mother, rebuking Frank for the fool his brother had always been, and telling Gleason how much he loved and missed her. Returning to his car, he caught sight of a dark blue sedan leaving through the massive gates. That's the second time a blue sedan has been here, he thought.

Greasy fries and fish smells filled the air as he found a spot right in front of Barry's Fish and Chips on Ralph and his mouth watered; he hadn't eaten since last night. A woman stepped in front of the door as Bobby reached for it and held it open for her. "Thank you," she said smiling brightly. He nodded and followed her in.

The place was jammed and people waited in a quasi-queue along the side. Bobby considered leaving when he saw the crowd, but figured he had nowhere to be and no one waiting for him so he continued behind the woman as she made her way to the podium. "Two?" the young hostess asked glancing at the woman and then up at Bobby.

"No, we're not together," he answered quickly.

"How long is the wait?" the woman asked.

"About forty minutes for one; about half that for two," the hostess replied.

The woman seemed to think a moment and then looked up at Bobby, "Are you alone?"

He nodded and she continued, "Would you like to share a table? It would be quicker for both of us."

"Oh, uh, I don't think so," Bobby looked at the floor and shuffled. "Sorry, no."

"Oh, come on. I'm Gina," and she stuck out her hand. He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded with, "Robert."

The woman turned back to the hostess and said, "Two, the name is Gina."

"No, really, I prefer to eat alone, really."

"Well, I'm starving and twenty minutes is a heck of a lot less than forty. It's only a meal. I promise I won't bite. Come on." With that she took Bobby's sleeve and pulled him to the side to wait for their table. He could do little else but follow her.

"I hope you don't think I'm rude or pushy, it's just I'm really hungry and this place has the best fish as the size of this crowd attests." She looked around and Bobby looked at her – she looked like a twelve-year-old boy: a little taller than Eames and wiry thin with boy-short dark hair. She looked back up at him and he noticed her flawless skin and huge grey eyes. "Your name is Robert?"

"Uh, yes, Robert."

"What do you do, Robert?"

"I work for the city, how about you?"

"I'm an actuarial analyst at Pettigrew, Shoman, and Wertz."

"What is that?"

"I use statistics and historical data to measure the risk of a particular investment – lots of numbers and pressure. I work with dull people. What do you do for the city?"

He nodded, smiled, and asked, "Do you come here often?"

Gina smiled, noticing he avoided her question, "Thus begins the boundary-building banter. Yes, Robert, I come here often. Like I said, their fish is the best. I especially like the beer-battered. And the tartar sauce – the best."

Bobby nodded and looked over the heads of the others waiting for tables. He wished he had left when he had the chance. He didn't remember noticing her here on a Friday, and this was his usual stop.

"So, do you live around here?" she asked.

He glanced down at her and said, "Yep, Brooklyn."

Gina smiled and said, "Either you're shy, married, gay, or undercover."

The last bit surprised him, "No, just hungry."

"Me, too."

After more than several silent moments, several couples and families left and finally they were seated. They ordered quickly and then began the awkward silence. Bobby fooled with his napkin, fork, and sipped his water empty.

"So, Robert, are you shy, married, gay, or undercover?"

He looked up at her at the second mention of 'undercover,' "I'm shy."

"Oh, not married, gay, or undercover?"

He was becoming uncomfortable and shifted in the chair, "Uh, no, none of those, just shy," he answered with a whisper of tone.

She knew she needed to back off and let a few moments of silence swirled between them.

"So, Robert, what do you do for the city? You dodged the question earlier," Gina asked.

"I work downtown."

She smiled and he saw her perfect, white-white teeth. "Boy, you are good. Okay, you are probably a dispatcher for Municipal Solid Waste Disposal, right?"

He chuckled and said, "Yeah, something like that." More silence and then he asked, "Why would someone want to become an actuarial analyst?"

"Yeah, I know – fun, fun, fun. I carry my pocket protector in my purse." He chuckled and she began to tell of how it was that she turned out to be some kind of mathematical genius and was recruited out of university to work in the investment world of business intelligence and analytics. Their dinners arrived and she continued on, he nodding and saying little. She ate with gusto and finished before him, despite talking the whole time.

The server brought the check and Bobby took it. "Here, let me get this."

"Absolutely not!" Gina replied. "I did not badger you into eating with me to get a free meal. How much is it?"

"No, really, it's okay. My treat, really." He put up both hands and ducked his head.

She looked at him for a moment and then said, "Well, I'll leave the tip. I insist."

"That's fair." He told her the amount and she dug for bills while he stood and pulled a fold of bills from his front pocket, peeling a few and leaving them on the table. He stepped behind her chair and held it as she rose and followed her to the exit.

It was dark as they stepped outside. "Well, thank you for joining me for dinner, paying for dinner, and for the somewhat akward conversation." She put out her hand and he shook it, it felt like a child's hand.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked, hoping she would say 'no.'

"Oh, you are a gentleman, thank you, but no. I live right around the corner." She paused and then continued, "Um, would you like to have a drink at my place?"

"No, no, thank you, no. I, I really need to get going. Uh, do you want me to walk you to your place?"

"No, it's just around the corner. Okay, then, well, I guess I'll see you at Barry's again some Friday."

He just nodded and walked to his car. Gina turned left and began walking while Bobby entered his car. He sat and watched her in the rear view mirror until she was out of sight and then started his vehicle and pulled out.

A blue sedan pulled out on the next block up, turned right, slowed, stopped and Gina got in.

"So, how did it go?" the driver asked.


End file.
